


pro libertate pullum

by donntlookatme



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Chicken Heist, Crack, Enjolras cares about animals, Enjoltaire Week 2016, Fluff, M/M, bed sharing, the ecoterrorist AU nobody asked for
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-07
Updated: 2016-06-07
Packaged: 2018-07-12 18:46:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7118128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/donntlookatme/pseuds/donntlookatme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>*posts a fic two hours after the day for the prompt is over* time is a social construct </p><p>anyway, enjoy this fic, it's 2am and yeah. I don't know what else to write please enjoy this ecoterrorist AU where they liberate a bunch of chickens from a chicken farm, which is Totally not a thing I have daydreamed about for a while.</p>
    </blockquote>





	pro libertate pullum

**Author's Note:**

> *posts a fic two hours after the day for the prompt is over* time is a social construct 
> 
> anyway, enjoy this fic, it's 2am and yeah. I don't know what else to write please enjoy this ecoterrorist AU where they liberate a bunch of chickens from a chicken farm, which is Totally not a thing I have daydreamed about for a while.

They’re going on a chicken heist. Grantaire closes his eyes, mulls the sentence over in his head, a manic laugh bubbling in his throat, threatening to spill out. He thinks Courfeyrac is looking funny at him, but he doesn’t care. He’s in one of the most prominent eco-terrorist groups in France, no, in the entire fucking world, and they’re going on a chicken heist. Grantaire sometimes wonders if his life went terribly wrong or terribly right.

 

“Everyone, focus and put on your masks. We’re almost there.” Enjolras says, his voice sharp in the stolen truck. A truck that they’re going to return in 12 hours, because apparently they’re criminals with manners (he remembers the helpless laugh of how utterly ridiculous their group is the first time he saw Enjolras leave fucking gas money in the stolen car, along with a note clearing the owner of any suspicions. “We’re working against the corporations, not against the working class citizens.” Enjolras has told him. Grantaire could have kissed him right then and there.)

 

Grantaire watches his friends put on the masks- he’s technically in charge of their heist wardrobe, so he’s just doing his job when he looks as Enjolras covers his ridiculously beautiful hair with something resembling a red ski mask and putting in an earbud. Grantaire’s come to be in charge of their whole image, really, since the rest of them either have no sense of art or simply haven’t got the time. He can’t imagine doing anything less helpful, but hey, at least he’s useful and he doesn’t get kicked out. 

 

The masks look very professional. Their equipment could be used to rob banks. Instead, they’re going on a fucking chicken heist. Grantaire tries really hard not to laugh.

 

\---

 

Bahorel, Feuilly and Courfeyrac are usually the first ones to go out. Bahorel takes care of the personell, Feuilly takes care of security and finally Courfeyrac secures access. This time, Gavroche goes with him- he’s still a kid, but they aren’t really able to stop him from going when he makes up his mind and the kid’s amazing at picking locks. 

 

Enjolras is the first one to actually go inside, leading the rest of the group (most of which Grantaire doesn’t know, but Enjolras seems to trust them, so he’s good) while Combeferre navigates them in the right direction. Grantaire gives Bossuet a thumbs up when he exits the truck, then an amused smile to Eponine, who got lookout for this action. 

 

He gives a nod to Joly, who’s monitoring them from the car, as he takes out his supplies. Unlike the rest of the group, his task is a lot more free and he only has to listen for the sign to bail. He pulls on his mask and gloves, carrying his duffel bag full of spraycans and looking for the walls and the parking lot- the only solid places that aren’t going to be blown up.

 

It started ouf as a joke, the rest of les Amis asking him to make posters or caricatures of corrupt politicians they could throw around. Then Enjolras asked, seeing it as a way for Grantaire to help with the cause, and well. Grantaire never was good at refusing Enjolras. And then he’d done his first les Amis supporting grafitti, and then things went downhill. The good thing is, nobody expects him to help out on any of their actions, just paint the message they want to leave.

 

He picks up a can and starts working.

 

\---

 

By the time he’s done, he’s seen Enjolras  and everyone else carry what’s probably a thousand of chickens into the trucks they brought, then saw them carry the explosives in. There’s no one in the building left, according to Joly’s report, so he gets to turn around and watch the show. As far as they know, the police hasn’t been called yet and the place is pretty distant, so they can watch the explosion go off before leaving. 

 

He surveys his work one more time- a giant les Amis symbol painted on the concrete of the parking lot, the message from Enjolras (revised by Grantaire) and poem by Jehan written on the walls in Grantaire’s writing. All things considered, it looks pretty good. The very simplified painting of Liberty leading the people replaced with chicken (and a thriumphant Pepe in the background, because Grantaire is not above filthy memery) is purely Grantaire’s work, but he hopes the other can forgive him the… liberties he took with the theme.

 

He turns around just in time to watch te building go up in flames- it’s a beautiful sight to behold. Grantaire’s always enjoyed watching things explode, the closer to the explosion he is, the better. Blame it on his weak sense of perservation, but there’s something magical about the way the building crumbles, the rush of energy and the loud boom of the crash as the building falls like a house of cards. This time, he actually laughs triumphantly- he might not believe in the cause, but this really is sticking it to the authorities.

 

He is surprised to find Enjolras tugging at his shirt, too enthralled by the explosion to notice him. His mask is pulled off and he’s smiling- Grantaire’s heart nearly stops. He raises his eyebrows and Enjolras points at the painting, but then seems to remember himself (probably due to Joly screaming at them to bail out through the earpieces) and they run back to the trucks.

 

\---

 

It’s about an half an hour later that they run into trouble.

 

“Cops.” he hears Courfeyrac say- everyone visibly tenses. Most of the other trucks carrying chicken are already on the way to the safehouses they have set up for them to wait in until they can transport them to various eco-friendly small farms (and also some private property one of les Amis owns that is able to hold them) so they’re the only ones left, which means it’s only them who would get in trouble. Bahorel and Eponine are driving their own cars, which could be used as a distraction, but not good enough of a distraction- judging by what they heard on the wires, their deed has already been discovered.

 

Grantaire isn’t particularly worried about getting caught or jailed, since he’s arguable the weakest link in the chain with no hopes or dreams for the future, but most of the others from the car- especially Combeferre, Enjolras and Courfeyrac- getting arrested would hinder the organisation so much they’d probably have to disband. Shit.

 

“How long ‘till they see us?” Combeferre asks, his brow furrowing.

 

“About five minutes.” Courfeyrac replies, looking equally grim. 

 

Combeferre is silent for about a minute, quietly talking with Enjolras, both of them frowning. He looks to everyone after a while.

 

“Okay. Eponine’s car is the faster one and has possible storage space that we can pretend was used to steal things, so we’re going to use her as bait to distract the cops. Bahorel will take Gavroche, Joly, Bossuet and Courfeyrac and go back to base- we need some people to monitor the aftermath. Me and Feuilly will go with Ep- we’ll shake them off, then go back to base. Enjolras, Grantaire, you two will turn off the lights and drive through the forest. There should be a road here that leads to the safehouse. Enjolras, you’ll know what to do.” Combeferre says resolutely- everyone else is too busy to argue, quickly getting out and switching seats. Grantaire swallows heavily, going into the passenger seat as Enjolras takes the wheel. 

 

\---

 

“It was nice.” Enjolras says after twenty minutes of awkward silence and looking for cars following them every 5 seconds. 

 

“What?” Grantaire asks, not quite getting what Enjolras means.

 

“The painting. You know. The one with the chickens. It was nice.” Enjolras repeats while Grantaire tries to ignore the way his heart flutters at the compliment. 

 

“Thank you.” he smiles, probably a little helplessly- it’s not often that Enjolras compliments him, but then, it’s not often that Grantaire gives him a reason to compliment him. This wasn’t something he expected Enjolras to compliment him for. 

 

He wants to say something else, but Enjolras stops the truck - the sky’s brightening already, the world drenched in the grey-blue monotone of the morning right before suns begins to rise - and gets out, then pushes away a few bushes, which seem to be either fake or in flower pots. There’s a road beyond them, or at least enough space for them to pass, which is a considerably large space, considering the truck and all. They have to go slowly, so it takes them another 15 minutes to pass the fence of the safehouse.

 

\---

 

By the time they get news besides a text saying “everything’s ok” from Combeferre, they’ve already taken all the chickens out of their cages - some are hurt, but they’re not sure if it’s from the heist or from before. The rush of adrenaline has subsided by now, and they’re tiredly sitting on the ground of the abandoned warehouse, looking over the chicken as Enjolras reads out the news.

 

The heist has become a huge topic in the news- Grantaire’s graffiti is pretty popular, apparently, making headlines of the articles that came out in the past few hours. The police is still investigating and it will be a while until they’ll be able to move freely - they’ll be able to get to them in about a day, Combeferre informs him. No one got caught, which is good, and no one suspects that they might be hiding in the area, which is even better. The company’s lost millions of euros  and a nation-wide debate has sparked (but, as Grantaire remarks, the company’s still fine and nothing’s really changed). That’s the good news- the bad news is that  the safehouse has no electricity Grantaire will have to spend the next 30 hours with Enjolras, without much to distract them. He sees no way in which Enjolras isn’t going to hate him by the time someone arrives.

 

\---

 

They take turns sleeping and guarding the chickens. There’s only one bed in the small house next to the warehouse, so they have to. Enjolras lets Grantaire sleep first- the bed is alright despite being old and slightly shabby and waking up to Enjolras gently nudging him awake is one of the nicest things he’s ever seen, at least until he’s rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and gained back some senses. He hopes he wasn’t blushing too much, even though Enjolras doesn’t seem to have noticed, lying down and falling asleep moments after Grantaire stood up. 

 

Grantaire tries not looking at Enjolras, but he’s a weak man, turning around and letting himself stare for a while. This is probably the only chance he’ll get to see Enjolras relaxed, even if he’s asleep. He looks cute like this- a lot younger, his face smoothed out, but also a lot more tired, the circles under his eyes more obvious. Grantaire just looks at him fondly for a while before realizing Enjolras is wearing a t-shirt and the house is quite chilly. He takes off his hoodie and drapes it over him before going outside, hoping it isn’t too creepy.

 

He spends the next few hours messing around. He sorts through the things in the truck- he takes out the emergency blanket and food supplies, since Enjolras seems to have taken care of the things the chickens need. He finds his sketchbook and decides to draw realistic things, for once. He draws the forest, then the warehouse, then probably spends hours messing around with drawing chickens. They don’t move much, but Enjolras hasn’t said anything, so he assumes it’s gonna be okay. They seem really young- if anything, Grantaire has to admit, at least they spared about a thousand of chickens from living out their entire life in a cage and then getting slaughtered.

 

He doesn’t notice Enjolras walking in until he’s crouching by the chickens. His hair is messy from sleep, glorious and sticking out like a shaky halo. He’s wearing Grantaire’s hoodie- Grantaire’s heart almost stops. And then he feels like it really stops because Enjolras is smiling fondly at the chickens, gently picking one up and letting it settle in his lap. It doesn’t seem to be afraid and Enjolras pets it softly.

 

Enjolras looks like a fucking disney princess.

 

Grantaire turns the page over and starts drawing. Enjolras seems to be busy playing with the chickens, but he notices him soon enough, giving him a fond smile and a nod. Grantaire knows that Enjolras loves animals almost as much as he loves his friends, and people in general, and democracy, and social security for everyone, but he never imagined he’d be so happy from being able to help them. 

 

By the time he finishes the drawing, Enjolras seems to be done petting the chickens and generally enjoying the fact that he’s surrounded by animals and sits down next to him, still smiling. Grantaire considers that he might start believing in miracles. 

 

“Will they be okay?” He asks, looking in the general direction of the chickens.

 

“They should be. This isn’t the first time I’ve done something like this.” Enjolras says softly. They’re having a civil conversation. This is happening. 

 

“How many times have you stolen chickens?” Grantaire asks, finding himself smiling despite everything.

 

“It’s the second time we’ve done this, actually. You’ve been... sick the first time, I think.” Grantaire knows he probably wanted to say ‘blackout drunk’, but he appreciates the sentiment. “These chickens are young- the ones we saved before were really old and it… took them a long while to be able to walk, but they got a lot better.” he sighs, his head lowering a bit. He seems sheepish now, unsure.

 

“That… sucks a lot. I’m sorry.” he says softly, not knowing how else to comfort him. This is the first time they’re friendly, and he’s already fucked it up.

 

“Do you… think this doesn’t matter, as well?” Enjolras says, and he’s probably purposely not looking at him. Grantaire takes a deep breath.

 

“To be completely honest, I don’t think this is going to change anything in the great scheme of things. The company will go on, rich people will continue to be rich off of exploiting people and animals, people will forget.” he sighs- Enjolras looks disappointed, but not frustrated. “But I also think that bottom line is, you saved a thousand animals from living their life out in a small cage, and if that isn’t positive change, I don’t know what is. Plus, it felt fucking awesome.” he smiles and turns, only to find Enjolras smiling back at him.

 

He doesn’t really know what to say, is just about to blurt out something sarcastic just to change the mood, but then his stomach growls and he realizes he hasn’t eaten anything in… quite a while.

 

“Care for some...” he looks out of the window, “Lunch?” he asks, relieved to find Enjolras nodding enthusiastically.

 

\---

 

They only have canned beans and bread, but it’s good enough for the situation. They have to share a fork, as there’s only one, Grantaire’s stomach tingling whenever their fingers brush as they pass, which is a lot. Enjolras gets beans on his shirt.

 

Grantaire slowly comes to realize that when they don’t actively try to argue even if they obviously disagree on a topic, they end up being surprisingly good at talking to each other. They talk about their favourite animals, the correct way to keep pets, what lead Enjolras to being this. They watch and feed the chickens again. He finds out Enjolras prefers cats over dogs, but likes dogs as well (Grantaire is the opposite way, even if he does own a cat- Enjolras’ eyes light up when he mentions it and Grantaire feels like if he didn’t offer to invite him, Enjolras would have broken in). Enjolras asks him to see his sketchbook. Grantaire obliges, but doesn’t show Enjolras the pages filled with his face (every third or so, but Enjolras doesn’t ask) until he gets to the chicken drawing.

 

Enjolras looks at it for a long while, and if it wasn’t getting dark, Grantaire would have sworn Enjolras is blushing. He flips the sketchbook closed, looking over the chicken. One of them seems to be interested in going all around the building. He follows it with his eyes.

 

“Your art is really good.” Enjolras says into the air, echoing their conversation this morning. Grantaire half-laughs, half-sighs.

 

“Not really. Not when it comes to the artist perspective.” he says, making Enjolras pause.

 

“I think the viewer’s perspective is important, as well. I like the athmosphere of your drawings.”

 

“What do you even know about art?” Grantaire teases, hoping his blush is concealed by the setting sun. “Actually, don’t answer that. I’d be horrified.”

 

“Contrary to popular belief, I do care about art to an extent. I think it plays an important part in society-” Enjolras gets cut off by Grantaire’s fond huff.

 

“I swear to god, we’re going to an art museum the moment we’re able to and I’m going to show you how to  _ really _ appreciate art.” he says, then pauses and adds, “Just kidding, most art critique is bullshit, beauty is in the eye of the beholder, all art is fake.”

 

“So you’re cynical even in the things you love?” Enjolras asks, smiling.

 

“ _ Especially  _ in the things I love.” he hopes Enjolras doesn’t catch on just how much of a confession that is. 

 

\---

They eat dinner together once it gets dark, throwing bread crumbs to the chickens. Most of them have gone to sleep by now, curling up on the floor. It’s probably about 10pm, Grantaire realizes idly.

 

“We should sleep.” he says, breaking the comfortable silence between them. Enjolras stands up, reaching out a hand to him. 

 

“Let’s go, then.” Enjolras says, and he better not be implying what he is implying. Grantaire is strongly starting to suspect he is hallucinating- how has it not occured to him that he might be hallucinating earlier? He laughs nervously.

 

“No, I think I’ll just. Sleep here.” he says, his voice cracking.

 

“With the chickens? Are you chickening out?” Enjolras asks, and he did not just make that joke. He absolutely couldn’t have. Grantaire snickers helplessly. “I mean, unless you’re uncomfortable with sharing a bed? I can just sleep in the truck if you want...”

 

“No, no, it’s okay.” Grantaire has come to the conclusion that he won’t look a gift horse on the teeth. He takes a deep breath and takes Enjolras’ hand. He can do this.

 

Once they get in, they lie awkwardly next to each other. Enjolras throws the blanket over them. There’s a while of awkward silence where Grantaire feels like bolting out of bed.

 

“I have to confess something.” Enjolras says quietly. He’s not the only one, but he probably wouldn’t appreciate Grantaire’s confession right now. 

 

“Go on,” Grantaire says, feeling his voice shaky in his throat.

 

“Until today, I actually thought you despised me.” is what Enjolras says next, and Grantaire sputters.

 

“No. Not at all. I’ve never despised you, Enjolras. I don’t despise you.” I feel the exact opposite, Grantaire doesn’t say. They’re both silent again, until Grantaire says, “I actually thought you despised  _ me _ and I. Wouldn’t blame you if you did.”

 

“God, no.” Enjolras is turning to face him, so Grantaire turns too- it would be awkward if he just laid still. “You’re frustrating, sure, but I never… you always push me to try harder, show me where my defences are weak. I... enjoy your company a lot.” Enjolras is looking him in the eyes and Grantaire knows he should turn away, but he doesn’t. He feels Enjolras shift a little and his hand lands on Grantaire’s cheek, like it’s something that feels natural, comfortable, and to Grantaire’s horror, it does.

 

“Is this okay?” Enjolras whispers, and Grantaire nods, and then they’re leaning in and kissing and somehow his life doesn’t make sense anymore but it’s okay, it’s all okay because Enjolras’ mouth is pressed to his lips and his entire body feels like it’s alight and he briefly wonders why the room isn’t illuminated by the light pooling inside of him.

 

Enjolras is breathless when he pulls away, saying “I… actually wanted to do that for a while...” and this is ridiculous, they’re both ridiculous. Grantaire kisses him and rests their foreheads together, closing his eyes.

 

“We’ll talk this out in the morning. We should sleep now.” he mutters, to which Enjolras makes an agreeable sound. Grantaire just prays that this will be real when he wakes up. Enjolras curls up around him, pressing one last kiss to his lips before dozing off. Grantaire follows him soon after, once his heart stops beating a million beats per minute.

 

\---

 

In the morning, Grantaire discovers three things:

 

  * Courfeyrac is surprisingly gentle about waking people up, even though his knowing grin is kind of obnoxious after roughly thirty seconds
  * What happened yesterday wasn’t a hallucination (or is an ongoing hallucination) and when Courfeyrac leaves them to have some privacy, Enjolras sleepily kisses his forehead. It’s frighteningly cute.
  * Enjolras seems to be unfocused during a job for the first time he’s seen him, but that’s okay, because he seems focused on holding Grantaire’s hand in a way in which nobody sees as they drive the chicken to their supposed destination and back into town. It doesn’t stop the “I told you so”’s coming from Courfeyrac to Combeferre, but that’s alright, because when they finally part ways and Grantaire gets his phone, he finds Enjolras has already sent him a date and time of their date with a “Y/N?” attached at the end. He replies with a thumbs up and goes to take a shower, grinning to himself. Saved chickens or not, the world seems like a good place, for once.



**Author's Note:**

> I would literally suck dick for feedback


End file.
